Sharks
by Spike Daft
Summary: As his captain lay dying, Smee must seek help from from the darkest places of Neverland.
1. Author's Note

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Author's Note: This story is based upon the book _Peter Pan_, by J.M. Barrie (or rather, J.M. Barrie's vision of Hook and his pirates). I have never seen the Disney film, but what I know of it disgusts me, for the desecration of a previously enjoyable dark and subtle narrative is one of modern times' greater tragedies. If all you know of Peter Pan is through Disney, be it their cartoon film adaptation or their early nineties series "Peter Pan and the Pirates", I suggest you abandon that treacle-sweet world for a few hours and read the book. Had I children I would never let them read _Peter Pan_, but the fact that it is classified as a children's book makes the read all the more delightfully sinful.

I have taken the fact that many have come to learn of Peter Pan through Disney into account, and though I do not hold it against whomever might be suited to this category I do strongly suggest reading the original book. As it stands, I have added excerpts from the text to further illustrate the character of Captain Hook. These are written as subnotes at the bottom of the page; during your read you will find that superscript numbers are occasionally placed after a word, indicating that it is adapted from the book's version of James Hook, which I feel is worth elaboration. Scroll down in those instances for textual support.

Disclaimer: _I do not own most of the characters used in this fan fiction; only a few random pirates of my crafting. The characters herein do not in any way belong to Disney, either. They belong to J.M. Barrie, O delightfully somber man; may I do slight justice to his brilliance._


	2. Chapter One: Red Death

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Chapter One: Red Death

Evening had settled into the Neverland, and just beyond the cove two ships were anchored. Not long before this present time they had rung with the sounds of battle, but now all lay silent as the skies lost the light and the fireflies came forth on land. In the west the sun died a violent and bloody death, spreading claret outward across the sky, turning the waters to blood and reflecting in the mad eyes of one Captain James Hook.

He stood, straight and regal, upon the decks of the _Jolly Roger_, his pride and joy. Beyond the lagoon his ship had sailed this fine evening, to meet a traitor captain known in Hook's younger days, when his memories of having served as Blackbeard's bo'sun were still fresh in his brilliant mind. Cap'n Bragg, as he was called, had returned to the Neverland to plunder what he could from Hook, who had been rumoured to have been driven irretrievably mad by his nemesis Peter Pan and lay raving in his chambers, helpless and wasted and at the mercy of a simpering, idiotic crew. The rumours, of course, turned out to be quite false, being fostered by a mutinous and opportunistic bo'sun who wanted nothing more than to see his captain stumble greedily into such a horrifying trap as his lies created, thus, in theory, bringing the bo'sun to well deserved power. Of course, all of the crew of the _Shark _were now either prisoner or dead, the bo'sun included. Thus, among the thrashing sharks, perished his dreams of conquest.

Hook's own bo'sun was this moment fondly scrubbing his captain's fine cutlass free of Captain Bragg's thick blood, which tarnished the pure gold and onyx inlay of the hilt and made Hook quite irate, for which he demonstrated an extra cruelty as punishment. Quite gracefully he beheaded Cap'n Bragg and tossed the head into the sea, where the stalking crocodile battled with the sharks over its possession. Only Smee had seen his captain, in the midst of battle, raise his hook to his face and slowly lick Bragg's blood from its sterling surface, a grin of frightening enjoyment in his glittering eyes. Had Smee been of greater morals and presence of mind he might have thought this display odd and perhaps disturbing, but in his blissfully ignorant state he was simply and childishly glad that his captain was enjoying himself, for he was a great captain indeed, and much deserved it.

But why shouldn't an Irish bo'sun of unconscious good form1 be glad for his captain, who was looking content for the first time in ages? After all, was it not Smee who faithfully hurried to his master's chambers upon hearing the anguished cries that issued forth in the deepest pits of night? Was it not Smee who laboured over poultices and opiates (acquired with difficulty; only their former travels had yielded such pleasure, and the _Jolly Roger_ had not sailed that far in time fathomless)? Did he not risk death by rapier and suffer torment by sharpened nails as he firmly applied these evil-smelling treatments to the ragged stump of his master's hand, which ripped the captain apart when the cold set in? Caught in the midst of his blinding pain Hook often became dangerous and struck out wildly at anything that came near, his haunted dreams torn with visions of the accursed Peter Pan and the grinning crocodile. Smee had been witness to this suffering; had even held fast to his captain moments after the deed was done, as blood and consciousness poured from him and stained his clothes, and the bo'sun spoke works of comfort. To see his captain- to whom he was eternally devoted as any loyal crewman should be- granted even a temporary reprieve from his misery gave Smee a great warmth inside.

" We will be warmed by the heat of the _Shark_'s burning this night, Smee," said Hook at length, startling the bo'sun. In his good hand he held his self-created contrivance which bore double cigars; his hook tapped idly on the bulwarks, creating pits in the wood. His shoes were polished, his long ebony curls neatly dressed, his clothes immaculate. The only testament to his terrible deeds of the day lay as a bright spot of blood upon his white collar, elegant and terrible, as though it had dripped from the sky, shed by the murdered sun itself. The red lights2 were only just fading from his melancholy eyes, or was it the lighted blood of said sunset that lit the captain's eyes like coals? The hook tapped; the cigars let loose their fragrant perfume over the decks of both ships, and time passed as though it cared not of death, which it likely did not.

Hook said, " Tell the crew to throw the corpses into the sea, plunder the ship, and then set fire to it. Make sure our prisoners witness this. By its light they will scrub the decks of the _Jolly Roger_ free of blood."

" Aye aye, Cap'n," said Smee happily, and trundled off to relay the message, leaving his captain standing in relative solitude, a dark relief against the sun's brilliant demise. He leaned over just slightly to allow a good view of the water, where his crew was already tossing bodies to the sharks. The huge fish received their gifts with active gratitude, thrashing and whipping the waters into a foam, which soon turned the colour of Hook's own splendid jacket. Torn flesh and clothes floated on the oily swells as the sharks gorged themselves; one fixed its beady eye on Hook and met a venomous smile.

" You're quite welcome, my pretties… perhaps before long you'll be feasting on a few tender Lost Boys as well."

The shark turned back to its meal, apparently uninterested in what its mealgiver had to say, but Hook didn't mind. He was content to watch the entrails drift along the surface, and the sharks fighting over them. He was content to see the head of Captain Bragg floating now without its lower jaw, half the remaining face torn off.

Said Hook to the dark sea below him, " To thy majesty Jas. Hook proffers his offerings, o great waters, so that thy children may taste of blood and rejoice. Crave thou game of a worthier nature?" He paused, considering, then as though the sea had answered him replied, " Then one day the blood of Peter Pan shall stain thy children's mouths, I swear my hook on it."

The sea lapped at the side of the boat as though it already tasted its promise.

* * * 

" Ye'll never be getting away with this treachery," snarled Peter Cooley, his hands bound with stained rope, propped up against the mainmast with several of his former crewmates at his back. " Cap'n Bragg is the greatest cap'n that ever lived; mark my words he won't let you get away with this. Your captain's blood will stain his own decks afore the fighters of the _Shark_ are through with ye!"

The pirate Alf Mason caught these words in passing, and as his crewmates watched he knelt down before the prisoner, his face inches from Cooley's, and hissed, " Your cap'n's down to Davy Jones, matey, or haven't ye heard? I have; I've seen 'im, too- 'e's floatin' in the water playin' poker with the sharks… minus 'is head, o' course, compliments of Cap'n Hook. You mind yer scurvy tongue on this ship; no one speaks ill of Cap'n Hook here and lives. Ain't no matter though, I suppose… I have a feelin' he be plottin' to feed ye to the croc, the lot of ye, an' hang yer entrails from the mainmast!"

Cooley was stunned into silence at the news of his captain's death, and only half-heard the outraged cries of his fellow prisoners. Slowly an anger began to burn inside of him; Bulgurd the bo'sun had lied; this "Cap'n Hook" was not wasting away to his madness, then, if he could kill Bragg. Thus he had led them straight to their doom; ironic that Bulgurd himself had been thrown overboard to the sharks, a cutlass in his back. Cooley had witnessed that, but he had not seen either captain during battle, having been struck over the head and bound early on. The vantage point from his place on the deck was useless; all he could see was members of the enemy crew heaving overboard his compatriots' corpses. Below he could hear the thrashing of the sharks and the tearing of sodden flesh, and his stomach nearly revolted, hardened as he was by the life of a corsair.

Another of Hook's pirates, Tom Deacle, lumbered past the assembly, holding his round stomach with one grubby hand, a hunk of bread clutched loosely in the other. " Arrr," he belched, " these seadogs ate better than we ever have, maties… I've just had me fill of the larders… B'lieve me, they ain't never gone 'ungry on a long voyage!"

Mason slapped the roll out of Deacle's hand. " Yew scurvy pigdog!" he snarled. " Belay that feastin' straightaway; we need that fer our own larders! Wot would Cap'n Hook say if 'e knew you was eatin' ship's rations?"

Deacle's hand flew to his belt, where he seized a long dagger tucked there, and brandished it at Mason. " No one talks ter Tom Deacle like that, shipmate, lest they wants their liver n' lights carved out!" He lunged forward, but hampered by his full belly he was slow, and as fast as he could blink he found the edge of Mason's cutlass against his throat, and froze.

Mason reached out and struck the dagger from his adversary's hand. The weapon skittered across the deck, but no one was watching; instead the eyes of the crew were trained upon he and Deacle, who had by now ducked away and drawn his own cutlass. During the duel that ensued not one pair of eyes was elsewhere, except those of Peter Cooley.

Deftly he reached out with a slow and sneaking foot, and snared the weapon that had slid to rest just two feet away. Carefully he manoeuvred his body until he could bend his knee and have his foot slide to touch the side of his buttock, bringing the weapon to his tied hands. By this time Sal Rankin, another prisoner seated beside him, had taken notice, and grinned. Cooley grinned back and swiftly composed his face into a mask of fear and shock again, and continued to watch as the battle before him raged on.

Deacle and Mason were in a stalemate, each cutlass locked, their sweating faces inches from the other's…and then Deacle was reaching into his belt for his other dagger. Alf Mason was quicker, and in half the time had drawn his own dagger from concealment and plunged it into Deacle's belly just as his hand was flashing upwards.

There was a muted _thuck!_, and Deacle's eyes went wide and his face rigid, and from his mouth there issued a dying screech. He dropped his dagger, and in moments had fallen limply to the deck, and as Hook's dogs cheered and Mason heaved him overboard Peter Cooley cut the bonds that held him, and he gripped that dagger fast in his hand still held behind his back. 

" Brimstone and gall, what agitation is this?" came suddenly the dark voice of James Hook, and at once his dogs cowered and quivered, and Mason wiped his bloody hands upon his trousers and stood upon his cutlass. Hook strode over, his own shining cutlass at his waist, his hook flashing in the fading sunlight, and he was appraising the situation with a scrupulous eye, which shone redly.

" I heard the dying cry, cullies," murmured Hook as though in thought, and suddenly his eyes flew to those of Alf Mason, and saw right through them, down into the ocean where the sharks were investigating Tom Deacle. " Ah," he said, " so when I gave the command to sheath thy weapons there was still blood to be let. Then I must apologise for attempting to end thy sport so soon, Mason. Pray, don't look so shocked, me hearty- I see the cutlass at your feet; standing on it won't help you. 

"Tell me then, " he purred, " to whom do we owe this cozening?"

" Tom Deacle stole from the larders, an' went about eatin' ship's rations as though 'twas only he that conquered the _Shark_, Cap'n," said Mason. And then his clever corsair's mind reckoned another boon that might put him farther from the hook: " An' he said, wi' his mouth full and the like, 'e said, 'Down wi' Cap'n Hook! I could slay 'im wi' one glance, me hearties; who aboard this ship's thirstin' for mutiny?' And so I slew 'im, Cap'n, not for taken our food but for treadin' on yer when yer wasn't round to defend yourself."

" Indeed," said Hook, and stepped forward until his sad eyes were a hook's length from Mason's. " How noble of you," he said, and at once Mason knew that his boon had failed, and flinched for the killing blow.

It never came.

In retrospect, had Alf Mason been less loyal to his own crew he might have credited Peter Cooley for saving his life, and perhaps, in a stretch, been grateful. As it were he only stared in horror as Cooley, less than a metre from where the two men stood, leapt to his feet and lunged at them. Tom Deacle's dagger flashed red in the sunset as Cooley darted forward and plunged it into Hook's side, extinguishing its fires. He ripped upward, but the dagger did not have time to travel far; Hook lashed out with his hook and ripped out Cooley's throat. Death stilled the corsair's hand. He fell to the deck, his blood mingling with the thick, blackish3 blood that rained down upon him from his final revenge.

A cry of outrage from Hook's dogs at this, and they ran forward and seized the corpse of Cooley, the more loyal of them hoping that life might still be left in the pirate so they might punish him, but Hook's work had been swift and precise. They heaved Cooley overboard and turned to their captain, expecting to see him breathing his last upon the deck.

But Hook, O man unfathomable4, lay not upon the deck, but stood still, his good hand holding his wound as his oddly coloured blood flowed forth over it, staining his lace cuffs. His teeth were bared, not in agony but in strain, for he held his head cocked to the sea and was listening. Presently all the men heard it and understood; from the waters below there issued a steady _tick tock, tick tock_. Hook's blood was on Cooley, and now Cooley was in the water… and the crocodile had smelled it, and knew.

Hook turned at last and went quickly to his cabin, leaving a trail of blood. Smee hurried in after him and the door shut behind them with a resounding _boom_! At length the ticking stopped, for the crocodile knew also that when that sound issued forth from the ship her quarry was safe from her, and left her no chance. 

Silence fell over the _Jolly Roger_.

_To be continued._

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1: _Peter Pan_, pg. 174. Hook, being of good breeding, is obsessed with good form, and in _Peter Pan_ becomes enraged when he comes to the conclusion that Smee possesses it. One must understand that the key to true good form is not realising one has it, and Hook is in grave doubt of his own. 

"…If Smee was lovable, what was it that made him so? A terrible answer suddenly presented itself-- 'Good form?' 

"Had the bo'sun good form without knowing it, which is the best form of all?"

- _Peter Pan, _pg. 174

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2: "…His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save for when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly." _Peter Pan, _pg. 66

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3: "…A man of indomitable courage, it was said of him that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour." _Peter Pan, _pg. 67. **Very dark is my own interpretation; it would not be wholly fitting to Barrie's sinister portrayal of Hook if his blood were, say, pink.**

4: _Peter Pan, _pg. 171. **I have gathered from Barrie's descriptions and his generous elaboration of Hook's intentions in his last moments that he was quite fond of Hook. As he lamented at the end of chapter 15, **" James Hook, thou not wholly unheroic figure, farewell." 


	3. Chapter Two: Sailing Homeward Upon a Sea...

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Chapter Two: Sailing Homeward Upon a Sea of Blood

The moment Smee closed the door behind them, Hook fell to his knees upon the cabin floor and plunged his hook deep into the wooden planks in agony. His breath came with difficulty, and every time he filled his lungs a horrible, deep pain raked through his torso. But the ticking of the crocodile could no longer be heard, and for that the captain was grateful, for her memory still left a stain upon his thoughts, and he could not easily forget what waited for him in those dark waters. Presently he raised his head and looked to his bo'sun, and as he comprehended the concern in Smee's eyes he suddenly felt terribly helpless. 

" Smee," he said, and was surprised that his voice was nothing but a breathy rasp. He coughed sharply, struggling to ignore the blackness that was overtaking his vision, and spoke again. " Help me, Smee…"

The bo'sun stood over him, fighting panic and shock, for never had a prisoner of the _Jolly Roger_ been so strong of will as to raise a hand against his captain, and never had Hook let himself suffer such a ghastly wound. What was more, he supposed, was that he had never seen Hook so utterly weak, and so at his mercy. Yet loyal Smee occupied his mind with nothing but solutions to aid his captain, thinking not of mutiny, and thusly knelt with him upon the floor, bringing his handkerchief to the horrible streaming wound. He looked into his captain's face and flinched from the agony he saw there.

There was blood upon Hook's lips, and in his chest a rattle that made all pirates, with their lack of medical necessities, shudder.

The death rattle. Hook was breathing his last.

* * *

Outside the cabin the entire crew of the _Jolly Roger_ stood in stupefied shock; many eyes lay upon the stream of blood whose banks were drying in the evening breeze, unbelieving it to be that of James Hook.

" If he ain't dead already," said the pirate Skylights at last, " he's soon to be it."

" I ain't believing that until I see 'is corpse for meself, shipmate," said another from the sea of ashen faces, and immediately his words were met with a chorus of assent. 

" Aye," said Mason quietly, " I wouldn't want ter be the one to raise a mutiny while James Hook's still alive an' aboard his ship."

He too met agreement, and the pirates disbanded, some to the bulwarks to gaze at the midnight sea, others below decks, and still other remained to torture the prisoners of the _Shark_, who still sat bound upon the decks. The crew waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then the voice of Smee rang out loudly, startling the gulls that had perched sleepily upon the rigging:

" Oars out an' make for home, cullies! Orders of Captain Hook!"

" Aye aye!" came a myriad of cries.

Once again the _Jolly Roger_ came to life, and even she seemed glad of something to do.

* * *

Smee had found it hard to help his ailing captain to his bed, for to do so the bo'sun had to wrap an arm around Hook's slim waist and grasp his good hand; both were slippery with warm blood. At last, however, he succeeded, and Hook lay back upon a mountain of hastily arranged pillows and bedding, keeping him sitting upright so his lungs would not fill with blood any faster than they were already progressing. The strange blood dripped from Hook's lips and was cast outward in a fine spray each time he exhaled, and his eyes kept closing and opening fitfully, like a child struggling to keep awake in order to stay up past his bedtime. The head with its lengths of sleek midnight curls lolled weakly to the side; the silver hook lay still and impotent, for there was no longer any strength behind the arm that wielded it. The legend lay bloodied and useless upon a blanket.

It was there, from his bed, that Hook had made his order: to take the _Jolly Roger_ back to the cove. He had looked Smee directly in the eye as he said this, and Smee, though not very bright, still read the meaning in his words:

_Take the Jolly Roger back to the cove, for it is home where I want to die._

Smee had relayed the message to the crew, and almost immediately the ship had given a little lurch, indicating that it was moving through the water again; the anchor had come up so fast it was as though it had flown through the night-chilled waters. He quelled the satisfaction that arose within him at the adeptness of his captain's crew, for the sight before him in Hook's chambers left a sea of fear and sorrow in its wake. These emotions, Smee came to realise, were territorial; fiercly they chased all positive thoughts, regardless how small, from the bo'sun's mind. As though moving through water he slowly dipped a clean handkerchief into the basin of water that stood by the bed, and wrung it out upon the floor.

He stepped forward and knelt by the bed, taking his captain's hand in his own and gently using the damp kerchief to clean it of its glaze of blood. He talked softly in words he paid no attention to; they could have been nonsense words for all he knew, but he felt he must say something to soothe his captain. Soon the hand was clean and Smee wiped the blood from Hook's mouth and chin, but alas, it was to no avail; from his slightly parted lips the fluid continued to creep. Before long Smee had given up and went to binding his captain's side tightly with bedsheet, eliciting a gurgling cry of pain that turned his insides as he cinched the knot. 

" Hush now, Cap'n… I'm sorry fer that, but it has to be done. You're runnin' out o' blood."

" Bless you, Smee," came the softest of whispers, and a weak hand brushed the bo'sun's gratefully. Smee stared in shock for a moment; only one other time had his captain done anything close to thanking him.

" Jus' you hang on now, Cap'n," he murmured at length, and for the first time in so long as he could remember, Smee began to pray.

* * *

Another, too, had seen the sunset. 

He also watched as the _Jolly Roger_ hove its bulk again into the harbour, and was puzzled at the lack of raucous song on board. Quite often he had been roused from his torpor upon hearing it and was very much annoyed, yet as the time passed as it had for centuries the noise gradually grew as part of the everyday tapestry of sounds that wove their way across the Neverland. 

He was as old as he was powerful, this creature, and Yekin was his name. He was no pirate, nor was he an Indian; nor still was he a child suspended in Neverland's dark and ageless cradle. He was simply Yekin.

Shining silver eyes watched the ship for a few breaths longer, and then without sound the creature disappeared into the underbrush, leaving shadows like a slipstream in his wake.

* * *

Smee did not find rest with the onset of twilight; he paced his captain's chambers restlessly, his mind- unused to strenuous labour- working furiously. Upon the bed Hook lay, quiet now; even his breathing was inaudible, but the blue eyes followed his bo'sun faithfully as though locked in desperation upon his form.

__

Help me, Smee, Hook had hissed, and Smee, being loyal, knew he must do just that. And being loyal, he knew that the means of doing so meant risking himself.

Yet, as any dog beneath the hand of Man will know, loyalty hath no regard for the safety of oneself.

" I know what you are thinking," hissed Hook from his bed, startling Smee, who hurried to him.

" Hush now, Cap'n," said the bo'sun, smoothing the ebony curls. " Save yer strength for livin', not for talkin'."

" To go to him means death for us all, Smee."

" But Cap'n… you saved 'is life that night. He owes you a lifedebt; he has to help you."

Hook choked out a bloody laugh of derision, stopping Smee's hand from brining the handkerchief to his lips. " Yekin owes naught to any creature, Smee. It was a waste of my time, sparing him. You must not venture forth onto his land; to do so means death."

" But to leave you like this… do you think there's a…a chance of ye getting' better, Cap'n?"

" Perhaps," said Hook dismissively, and fell silent, responding no longer to Smee's interrogations.

But the bo'sun's mind was made up: he was to pay a visit to Yekin, disobeying for the first time his captain's orders.


	4. Chapter Three: Into the Dark

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Author's Note: _Thank you all for the kind reviews. _

DK Archer, I loved your story "Captain". My only lament was that it was not so long as would require me to read for days… but that is forgivable, and only the unlikely fantasy of an avid Hook-worshipper. Do continue the wonderful work.

Chapter Three: Into the Dark

Sal Rankin, prisoner of the Jolly Roger, had foreseen his compatriot's death, yet the sight of his drying blood upon enemy decks stilled the last flutter of hope within his breast.

His palms were slick with blood and sweat, for he had been worrying at the rough hemp bonds that stilled his vengeful hands, and beside him the other prisoners were silent, some slumped in sleep or despair, others from the wounds to which they had finally succumbed. The crew of the enemy ship seemed restless and worried, but as the bo'sun had called out his captain's orders there came a collective groan of despair from all prisoners able. Cooley had not killed the enemy; they were well and truly defeated.

" That's it, lads," Rankin muttered to his former crewmates. " We're in for it now. Cooley the fool couldn't wait until a proper time an' now he's ruined it for all of us."

" He should 'ave given me the dagger," muttered a pirate named Jarvers. " Cooley always did fancy 'imself cap'n material, but he was too daft to do the job proper."

" An' you reckon you could have?" snarled another pirate called Smith, and instantly there was an uproar of arguing amid them.

" _Shut yer scurvy mouths, yew scum_!" came a bellow from amidships; it was the Alsatian Foggerty shouting, for he had taken watch over them for half the night, and was in high bad temper over his election. At once, with many a mutinous scowl, the prisoners ceased their fretting. Amid the ensuing silence they heard a strange sharp singing sound coming from the galley, high and rhythmic, and knew at once that it was the sound of blades being sharpened. And at once they knew that those blades were meant for them. 

The prisoners did not speak again that night.

* * *

Mason and Starkey were the only crewmen Smee trusted in knowing of his intention to leave the ship on errand, and thus they were the only two present and aware at the lowering of the lifeboat containing the bo'sun into the calm, dark sea. But even to them he did not reveal the true nature of his errand; his excuse was that he was to gather herbs from the mainland. Shrewdly he maintained that he was the only one who knew of such herbs and where to find them, and thus could not send out other crewmen. However, upon their conversation Noodler had blundered, and immediately demanded to know why Smee would not take another pirate with him, for in truth he was dying to get away from the ship for a while. No answer Smee could think of would sate Noodler's inquiries, and finally he gave up.

__

Perhaps he will be useful after all, thought Smee at length, and bid Noodler to come aboard with him. Starkey and Mason exchanged glances with raised eyebrows, and Smee nodded briefly at them, confirming their suspicions. Understanding, they nodded back, and Noodler looked upon them bewildered, but held his tongue and hopped gladly into the little boat.

" Don't worry then, Smee," said Mason gruffly, and there was honesty in his voice. " We'll look after the ship while you're gone."

" Aye, my fine fellow; no more prisoners will be cast of their bonds on our watch," followed Starkey, who tipped his hat politely in farewell1. " Do hurry back, however; Cookson is preparing a fine supper from the _Shark_'s rations."

" Aye aye," replied Smee, and paddled the boat out into the dark water, headed toward the invisible shore. 

" Supper?" said Noodler after a while of silent sailing. " We ain't had a proper supper in…gaw, I can't remember 'ow long. We'll be back to the ship soon, won't we, Mr. Smee?"

" Of course, cully," replied Smee. " I'm just as hungry as you are. A good supper sounds like just the thing to gets us in proper form again. Here, there's the shore; help me drag the boat up there, will you?"

Noodler did so without reply, for he was dreaming of his supper to come, which unbeknownst to him was actually _never _to come, and he only stopped dragging the poor boat across the sand when Smee grabbed his sleeve and towed him into the forest with a finger to his lips.

" Where are we going?" asked Noodler in his quietest whisper, but Smee merely shook his head, finger still to his lips, and continued dragging the pirate deeper into the darkness where he had never been before. Noodler thought to mention this, but as one of his wiser decisions he did not, for also unbeknownst to him he was being watched intently by a myriad of hungry eyes.

Presently they came to the base of a great rock set into the land; the moon shone brightly upon it and lit it up well, and Noodler could see that a jagged hole was made in the base of it, taller than a man and much wider, making a cave.

" The, er, _herbs_ grow here, in this cave," said Smee, and his voice was trembling. At once he seemed to catch this, and quickly said, "My, it is cold in this clearing, ain't it, matey? I'm all of a-tremble."

" As am I," said Noodler slowly, " but 'tis fear from which I shake, me hearty. Something here don't _want_ us here, methinks." He put his hand upon his cutlass and in the moonlight his knuckles were white.

" Nonsense," said Smee rather sharply. " I've been here before an' nothing's happened. 'Tis the cold an' nothing more; we've only rags to keep it from us, after all."

Noodler did not answer this, but forced himself to follow Smee into the mouth of the cave. Presently, however, he could stand it no more, and stopped, catching Smee by the arm.

" Listen, Mr. Smee," he said in a hushed and frightened tone, " I can't go any further; I'm too affrighted an' I'll admit it. Let's go now." And he began tugging Smee toward the door.

The bo'sun wrenched his arm away and hissed, " The Cap'n needs these herbs, cully; if you leave here it's mutiny, and I'll tell." Johnny Corkscrew made his appearance then, held to Noodler's belly.

It was at this tense moment that a voice came from deeper into the cave, permeating every crack and fissure in the rock and in the pirates' souls. It was a terrible voice, hissing and low, ageless and unendingly intelligent. As both of them froze there came a flicker of light from the origin of the voice, and suddenly the area was bathed in light as a blue flame erupted in the centre of the cave, throwing shadows across them.

At the sight of the creature Noodler moaned in terror, and in his daze of horror spittle shone upon his chin. Smee still held Johnny Corkscrew aloft, his gazed fixed on the creature.

" Ah, Smee the bo'sun," it said, not unkindly, and there came the dry rustle of scaly movement. " I remember your captain well, and just as well do I remember your loyalty to him. I admire it, which is why I did not kill you the moment you stepped into the darkness of my home. But I am hungry, Smee, I must admit… who is this lowly creature cowering by your side?"

Smee stood still a moment, as if wrestling with himself, and suddenly he gave a great jab with Johnny Corkscrew into the back of Noodler, who surged foreward with a yell, right into the waiting arms of the creature. The arms were impossibly long and bony and they held him in a terrible grip, and Noodler found himself drowning in the vast black pools of the creatures eyes, set in a face that was oddly human and entrancingly beautiful.

" Hello, child," it whispered at length. " I am Yekin, and you belong to me now."

The creature bent its serpentine neck over Noodler and put its delicate mouth over the pirate's eyes, and drew in a great breath. Noodler stiffened, and then relaxed as his bones appeared to melt within his body, which at length began to shimmer and then finally disappear just as the creature stopped its long breath.

" Ahhhh," hissed Yekin, a smile upon his fangs. " That is much better. I thank you, Smee, for your sacrifice." And then he uncoiled his great white legless body, long and muscled and scaly like a snake, and Smee heard the bones of his long and prominent spine pop as he stretched.

" G…glad you enjoyed it, Yekin, sir," floundered pathetic Smee.

" Rewarding as your company has been," said Yekin, his hairless head bright in the light of the flame, "you have yet to tell me exactly why you are here. I saw your ship this evening, sailing home, but James Hook was not perched like a proud eagle upon its bow, and no singing came forth from the decks. Oddly silent was your journey home, and unsettling to one who is well versed in the subtleties of your lifestyle, Smee." The tail twitched as if in emphasis.

" 'Tis true, 'twas a somber journey, sir," said Smee pitifully, " for out on the great waters we did find victory over another ship, and took many prisoners, but one of them got hold of a dagger an' got loose. The Cap'n was stabbed with it. He struck back and killed the mutinous scug, but the damage was done. He's lyin' in 'is chambers now, sir, an' I don't think he'll be alive to see the sun tomorrow."

" And sunrise, you realise, is in but a few hours," said Yekin, and his voice was more gentle than it could have been.

Smee's face fell in defeat.

Slowly Yekin moved foreword to the terrified pirate so that he might have a better look at him, and squinting his black eyes he bared his fangs in an understanding smile.

" You have come to ask for my help," he said at last. " I understand now. I hardly thought it was merely for company; I have not had such since your captain sat with me in my cave and nursed me back to health those long years ago. He had his hand then, I remember. I have yet to understand, in all my great years, why he helped me."

" As does he," ventured Smee. " Something came over him that night, he says, and he still don't know what it was that made him stay an' help you."

" He was the first creature that did not fear me," mused Yekin. " Mystified as I was at that, and as well as he helped me, I made it clear to him then that he would not have the favour returned. It was his choice to save me."

" So he said before I left for here," said Smee sadly. " He bid me not come, but I disobeyed him, unforgivable as that is… I thought I would at least try."

" Did you not reckon that I might have killed you for trespassing, and might yet? And perhaps even gone back to your ship and killed every man on board as punishment for your foolhardy thick-headedness?"

" I reckoned," moaned Smee. " The Cap'n said as much."

" Then he did not harbour false hope. He truly is as wise as I imagined. I am impressed by this, bo'sun Smee, as I am by your bravery, pathetic though your devotion is." Yekin slithered foreword a touch.

Smee flinched. " I don't mind if ye kill me now, sir, but please do it quick."

After a long pause Yekin sighed, and it was like a great wind throughout the cave. "No, little pirate," he said at last, " tonight is not your night to die. Nor is it, by my choice, your captain's. Though I did not intend to repay Hook for his kindness, I have not forgotten his deed. I have had many wonderful meals since, ones that I would not have been alive to enjoy had he not come to my aid, inexplicable as it was that he did so. For that I think he is worthy of my help, and you, Smee, for your bravery and loyalty, are worthy of living another day."

Smee stood looking up at the creature, but he could find no words.

" Come, Smee," said Yekin, moving for the door. " You may ride upon my back; your captain will be dead before you can sail that little boat back over the water."

Terrified though he was, Smee did not hesitate to climb upon the undulating spine and cling to the scales for dear life. " Thank you," he managed to sputter, and Yekin again marveled at the courage of the little mortal astride him.

Without a word they set out into the night, and even the greatest beasts of prey fled from their path.

****

1: _Peter Pan, pg. 65:_

" …And Gentleman Starkey, once an usher in a public school and still dainty in his ways of killing…"


	5. Chapter Four: Shapes in the Water

**Author's Note: ****Sorry for the delay. Life has been a cruel time-thief of late.**

****

****

**Chapter Four:**** Shapes in the Water**

The water rippled in a cool night breeze, its inky hide dappled with moonlight. Smee clung to Yekin's slippery spine as he was borne aloft above the waves, his eyes traveling thither and yon as dark shapes passed him beneath the waves. Shivering, he leaned forward toward Yekin's sleek head.

          "What be these shapes passing, Yekin?" he whispered fearfully. "They don't seem to be croc or shark or mermaid, or big fish even..." He trailed off as yet another passed, as though drawn by the duo's very presence.

          Yekin's strange black eyes rolled back to look at the pirate astride him, and he bared his fangs in a wan smile. "They are creatures much like myself," he said, "or at least, they were once. They succumbed to their greed, you see; they killed every creature upon this isle that they could find. The Watchers became very angry. So valuable is life to them that they punished the usurpers. Those punished could mount no defense, for the wrath of the Watchers was swift and terrible.To them every single life is sacred, from each lost boy to every beast, and even every pirate...and to end so many for the sake of greed did not sit well amongst their councils. The bloody-handed ones were banished thusly to dwell beneath these waters, where all other life would perish." Herein he heaved a great hissing sigh, and Smee clung to him as he rose and fell in time with Yekin's woe.

          "You... knew 'em then, did you?" inquired Smee quietly, fearful of further lament, which might compromise his position astride the creature. Stubbornly he clung like a limpet

          "Alas," said Yekin, "that this burden would fall upon my shoulders, for there are none of them left who tread upon the soil of the Neverland save for me. Many of those banished were my brothers; see how they have risen with our arrival. Alas,too, that they should be so covetous, and leave me in the end."

          Smee felt very sorry then, and bowed his head despite himself, as he knew to do in times of grief. 

          _Tis__ but memory_, thought his better self, _a plight not worthy of your reverence_. Smee, however, ignored this hard voice of reason as he often did, and kept his head properly lowered until the voice of Yekin again came in the watery dark.

          "Hearken to me, little pirate," he hissed, "for yonder lies your ship. Tell me where your guards would stand so that I might avoid them; there is a wicked great weapon peering over the edge, and surely they would not hesitate to direct it upon me should they know of my coming."

          "They would see me here," replied Smee, "and would not fire."

          "You are deceived. You know not that we journey under an unnatural cloak of shadows, a spell I travel under to preserve my safety, for I am feared by many. They will not see you; by the time I am revealed it will be too late for you, for already will the weapon be upon us."

          Smee gulped and said, " Towards the front of the ship, then... That's the Cap'n's quarters. There's no way they can get there, even if they wanted to. Er... but without the lifeboats we're too low to reach up there."

          "Leave that to me," said Yekin as they approached the foreward end of the ship. "Brace yourself, little pirate." 

          Smee clung to Yekin, and just in time, for at that moment the creature heaved his bulk out of the water and shot straight upward, his long body trailing after him like a banner of bone and muscle as hard as steel; a column of might. Smee shut his eyes tightly as the great hull of the ship whizzed past him in a blur of shadow and moonlight, as just as he thought he could hold on no longer they were safely on the ship's deck.

          Smee slid off of Yekin and onto the deck, and only when he felt the solidity of it beneath him did he open his eyes, and saw before him the doors of his captain's chambers, and all within was deathly silent. Then Yekin hissed, "Little pirate; there are men upon his deck; we must find shelter from fearful eyes, for in their fear men do much damage..."

          "Too late," Smee whispered back, "the prisoners have seen ye. But their mouths be bound; they can't breathe a word about ye to the crew."

          "And even if they could," said Yekin, eyeing them scrupulously, "I do not think they would have any believing ears, for before me I see the faces of men driven mad; their eyes are empty and hopeless. There is no hope of life there. And 'tis not the fear of me that robs them of their bearings. Some foul deed has befallen them this night."

          "Aye, we slaughtered their cap'n and crew this evening," said Smee, "and after what one of theirs did to the Cap'n they know they won't survive long, not if Hook has anything to say about it."

          "He will not," said Yekin, "lest we make haste. We have tarried outside his company long enough. I am loathe to be subjected to such exposure. Quickly, ere more come to view us."

          Smee quietly pushed open the door, peering inside, and after a moment gestured Yekin to follow him inside. 

His captain's quarters had grown cold.


	6. Chapter Five: The Deepest Chill

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Chapter Five: The Deepest Chill

"We must be swift," said Yekin, "and very cautious. Inside, quickly."

As they prepared to enter there was a brief scare when Mason came up from below decks and nearly stumbled over them. Smee, however, noticed that he was stumbling to begin with, and the smell of rum wafted from his clothes, and he was singing to himself a tuneless song. He did not notice the open doors.

"He has become daft with the poison of which your kind is so fond," whispered Yekin as Mason staggered back below decks. "He did not see us."

"Poison?" Smee scratched his head. "I don't know about no poison, matey. Ol' Mason's been into the rum by the smell of it. 'E wouldn't be staggerin' about if he had drunk poison."

Yekin said nothing to this, but merely shaped his beautiful strange face into a sharp smile and allowed the bo'sun to lead him past the set of large ornate wooden doors, gilded in wondrous patterns. Even in the darkness the gold gleamed, and Yekin found that he liked very much to look upon it. But Smee tapped him timidly.

"Come, Yekin sir," he said, and his voice was trembling. "I'm afeared. His room is cold as death."

He looked up to Yekin as the creature remained silent, and upon his face was the same grave look. Smee pushed the doors closed and hurried to a near table, where his trembling fingers fumbled with flint and tinder. After a long agonizing moment a weak flame sputtered in the oil lamp, and then grew bright. Smee nearly dropped it as he led Yekin to his captain's bedside.

Hook lay unmoving, eyes closed, and Smee felt an initial surge of relief, for he looked simply as though he were sleeping. He turned to Yekin to smile at him, but Yekin's expression was far more grave than it had been, and his black eyes were bright with some untold emotion.

"Alas, poor bo'sun Smee," he said quietly, placing a long hand on the human's shoulder, "but he has gone."

Smee stared at the creature before him, not comprehending for a moment, and then not wanting to comprehend. "No…"

"A last papery breath," said Yekin softly, "and thus passes James Hook from this place of deepest chill."

"This…this ain't no time for poetry, matey," cried Smee, clutching the scaly arms. "You gotta do something! You… you gotta bring the Cap'n back!"

Smee then fell upon his knees and began to weep unashamedly into his dirty hands, his spectacles falling upon the floor with a soft, sharp sound, and from him a soft keening sound began to rise. Yekin felt a weight upon him as he read the sound; it was the sound of hopelessness, of a soul that had bourne ever so much for the object of its loss, and yet held an even greater burden for its loss.

_I long to do what I must be done,_ thought Yekin, _yet the Watchers would not approve, not in an eternity of eternities. They would cast me down to join my brothers, and there would be no more of Yekin to give and take the essence of Neverland's life._

"Be strong, brave Smee," he said, still struggling with himself, and laid a hand again upon the bo'sun's shoulder.

"It hurts, Yekin sir," wept Smee, unafraid to say it. "It hurts more than a cutlass in me gizzard. Without the Cap'n I've got nothin' left to live on for, an' I ain't ready to leave Neverland, sir. I don't want to see an' end like the poor Cap'n did, with no more singin' of the birds in the morn, nor the sunset on the water at evenin'tide, nor a good raid to fill the larders or the sparklin' of booty…" He broke down again, going to the still from of James Hook and laying his head upon the quiet chest, weeping to himself. "Poor Cap'n, poor, poor sweet Cap'n Hook, ye can't let a cullie alone without ye, poor Cap'n…" A tear-slick hand stroked the ebony curls; another held the cool bloodless hand.

Yekin watched, and not once reminded himself that he cared not for the affairs of humans, for had he tried he would have discovered it to be a helpless lie, once supple and bursting with truth, but now a dried-out husk that contained no ounce of truth any longer.

For now Yekin did care, and as he watched the pathetic little bo'sun weeping over the body of the man he served he finally understood devotion, and of the quality of humans.

It was then that he made his decision.


	7. Chapter Six: A Great Green Light

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Chapter Six: A Great Green Light

Smee the bo'sun wept over the body of his captain as though his tears would never cease to flow; he cried steadily, lost in his anguish. When he would open his eyes Hook would be lying there, eyes closed as if in slumber, his body cold and still. The silver hook lay useless, abandoned; his blood had dried to black stains on his linen shirt. The raven curls were damp with Smee's tears, as were his clothes and hands, but Captain Hook was gone. He would not reprimand Smee for his weakness, nor scold him for the wet splotches he left on the fine attire, nor hush his wailing. He was dead, and Smee, for all his lamenting, was alone.

Or so he thought, isolated in his own coffin of grief, where the light of reason would not penetrate, barred by thoughts of loss, chased away by his keening. Yet behind him, an awful sight to most, and to many their last sight, stood Yekin, his snakelike form iridescent in the sputtering lamplight, which was sucked up by obsidian eyes that looked down upon two humans, one living and one dead, with an emotion the creature had never before felt.

Even when his brothers and kindred had been banished by the Watchers, he had felt only a mild sense of regret, that he would be the last of his long and fortuitous legacy. He missed his brothers, however, but he could not rightfully claim that it had been sadness that infected his soul since their banishing. The regret remained, and perhaps he had succumbed to a certain amount of self-pity as he became acutely aware of his lack of solidarity, and yet never had he felt the sadness he was feeling now.

It was a strange emotion to experience, and stranger still that he might be feeling it for humans, the most pitiful and quarrelsome creatures in Neverland apart from the mermaids. He had fed on them with abandon, luring them cunningly, savouring the look upon their fleshy faces when they beheld the perpetrator of their sorcery. So many of their souls now resided inside of him, keeping him alive as was the necessity of his race, and it was as if the sight of pathetic Smee weeping over his waspish captain sent each soul into a cacophony of lament. They were a part of him now, and thus so was the sadness, and Yekin found that he did not like the feeling at all.

__

Remaining here is not worth the price, at any rate, he mused. _Yekin in his long years has become soft, and yields to the lamentation of the humans upon which he feasts. Best to face the Watchers than remain a grim testimony to the remnant of my people._

Sighing Yekin went forth and put a long hand on Smee's twitching arm, gently pushing him aside.

"Move away, little Smee, and watch."

At first Smee was reluctant to leave his captain's deathbed, but Yekin's gentle prodding made him look up into the creature's eyes, and he saw smouldering there a very strange determination shining from the ebony depths. He could see his wet face reflected as though shown by some dark mirror. Awed, his grimy cheeks still glistening with tears, he stepped aside, and watched Yekin at the height of his power.

He knelt and lifted the captain's limp torso from the bed, bringing their faces together, each so white, one in death, the other in the simple glory of being. Yekin smiled a sad smile at the expressionless death-mask before him, and then placed his mouth over the blue eyes.

Smee made as if to shout; his mouth opened but no sound came out, and he left it hanging open as Yekin, instead of breathing in as when he fed, breathed out.

Immediately the dirty lighting of the oil lamp was overthrown, and instead a great green light filled the captain's quarters. It played over the face of Smee, whose still-wet tears shone yellow in its illumination. There was a great noise that issued forth from seemingly everywhere, like the crashing of a thunderous wave upon sea-sharpened rocks, as just when Smee though he could no longer stand its assault upon his brain the noise stopped, and the green light faded, and Yekin dropped his burden back down upon the bed.

Sme looked to his captain, awestruck, and what he saw made a high, thin scream flee from his aching throat.

Hook's eyes were open.


	8. Chapter Seven: The Gift of a Sunrise

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Author's Note: This is it, my wonderful, kind, and eloquent readers. It's been delightful; thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I could not have finished the story without you.

Chapter Seven: **The Gift of a Sunrise**

Smee stumbled back, mouth still agape, as Hook slowly sat up on his deathbed, wincing slightly. His eyes first went to Smee, and then to Yekin, and the eyes widened ever so slightly.

"You," he breathed in quiet awe, and Yekin smiled weakly. He swayed a bit where he stood, and his eyes had become lacklustre, his face drawn. Smee stared as well, and then it came to him.

_He's let go all them people he ate, all that life_, he thought amazedly, _an' hardly left none for himself._

Quickly Smee went to Hook, who looked upon him with a new kind of light in his eyes, and had Smee been better versed in reading his captain's expressions (other than the ones that meant impending doom) he might have recognised it as respect. Though, of course, Smee had never before been looked upon with respect, so we might forgive him of his ignorance. Yet respect it was, for Jas. Hook saw that his bo'sun had disobeyed his orders, and therefore saved his life.

_Good form_, he thought wearily. His side pained him still, but when he moved his hand to the spot he felt not the gaping wound from before, but only a cut, deep and bruised, but nothing he could not tolerate. He had had worse wounds in the past, which seemed so very distant now, as though it had been another life.

Presently Smee moved closer and smiled timidly. "It's good to have ye back, Cap'n. You was gone from us, an' I thought ye'd never come back, but Yekin's a magic beast, an' he proved me wrong. But he don't look too good now, does he, Cap'n?"

Hook turned to Yekin and studied him again, and noticed that his bo'sun was correct. Yekin merely smiled gently and wanly down at him.

"Smee," said Hook, not turning from the creature, "are the prisoners still on board? No one has slaughtered them without my order, have they?"

"No, sir," said Smee, "though they was aimin' to this night, on your word, o' course."

"Then they…"

"They didn't know you was in such an awful state, Cap'n. They think yer still fit enough to give orders."

"Then I shall give them," said Hook curtly. "Have them bring the prisoners here, to my quarters. Keep them bound."

"Aye sir," said Smee, understanding, and had to fight the joyful tears that welled up inside him then, for he thought that he might never say those words again. He hurried out of the room with all speed, giving Yekin a quick salute as he did so. Yekin merely smiled again, and turned to Hook.

"So, James," he said softly, "I thought we might never meet again. Your bo'sun is very brave indeed; he came to my cave with only one other, whom he gave to me. He made his request, and braced himself in the thought that I might kill him, and when I presented this possibility he merely nodded, and told me that he thought he might try despite the danger. He requested that I make his death quick."

Hook smiled. "I am amazed at his deeds, and equally at yours. You said you would never help me."

Perhaps," sighed Yekin, "the Watchers saw it fit that you feel the need to help me that night, though you had no reason. Perhaps they knew that I would, in time, return the favour."

"Thank you," said Hook honestly. He could not remember the last time he had said those words together, and yet they rolled off his tongue as smoothly and easily as though they were meant to be. Yekin smiled again at him.

"You're welcome, James Hook," he said.

At that moment the door burst open, and each prisoner was led in by Hook's mystified crew. Smee came trundling if after them, and, shooing out the crewmates, shut the doors.

"Yekin, sir," he said timidly, and then looked to his captain, who merely nodded for him to go on, "these are the prisoners we took from the _Shark_. They're now yours; recover your strength, sir. It's the least we could do."

Yekin stared at Smee for a long, long time, and then looked to the prisoners. A the sight of Yekin each had gone mad with terror, and now they stared at him with bloodless faces, expressionless, as though every facet of their minds had been wiped clean.

"They're already gone, sir," said Smee, noticing Yekin's hesitation. "They ain't got nothing left to live for, an' no minds either. Everything they've seen's been too much for 'em, poor cullies. You'd be doin' 'em a favour by takin' their lives."

Yekin nodded slowly, and looked to each face as though to assure himself. He hesitated only a moment longer, and then set upon them, painlessly drawing away the life that had once seethed within them.

When he had finished and no trace of the prisoners were left save for their bonds, which had fallen to the floor, he gave a great contented sigh, for at once he felt stronger. He then turned to Hook and his bo'sun.

"Thank you," he said. "But I must go now, for it is nearly daylight, which is poisonous to my kind. Goodbye, James Hook. Goodbye, brave Smee."

At that he went to Hook's great shuttered window, and threw back the coverings, and leapt gracefully into the water, where he landed with nary a splash, his long body trailing after him until it disappeared. Smee and Hook remained at the window for some time; they became lost in the dark swirling of the water, where Smee fancied that he could see the shapes of Yekin's brothers moving about in the great black depths; a flash of white, a glimmer of silver. They said nothing to one another, but their silence spoke volumes, and Smee knew that in the morning things would be back to normal again. Yet he was content in this moment, and willed that it might last forever. He thought of Yekin and the majesty and glory of his existence, and wondered if Yekin's words were true, if he really _were_ brave. In his heart he hoped he was, and thought that he might take Yekin's word for it, for he had never met a creature so wise, save for his captain. He was lost in his reverie, thinking of nothing and everything all at the same time; he even thought of the Lost Boys and their leader Peter Pan, sleeping in their underground house on the island, and even that thought did not darken his mood. 

Neither spoke, and they were only roused from their introspection when the black waters turned to gold. Both sat up at the same time, and looked at one another, and then out the window again to see the creeping tendrils of dawn slowly probing Neverland.

At length Smee said, "I said to Yekin in his cave that I did not think you'd see this sunrise, Cap'n."

"And what did he say?" asked Hook.

"He said, 'and you realise that dawn is but a few hours away'. It seems as though it's been so much longer."

"A lifetime," agreed Hook, and then they smiled at each other, warm, deep smiles as bright as the dawn that stole across their faces. 

The sun rose, and they watched it, the two of them. Not another word was spoken until it was high in the east.

No words were needed.

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The End.


End file.
